


I’ve Got You

by Hideous_Sun_Demon



Category: Designated Survivor (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hideous_Sun_Demon/pseuds/Hideous_Sun_Demon
Summary: Hannah and Aaron had a good thing going, they really did. Every couple of nights he would come over, they’d get drunk, and then they’d have mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex. What could go wrong?Well, because this was Hannah: absolutely everything.





	I’ve Got You

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly a pretty optimistic view of Hannah’s psyche after s2, and assumes that she would ever be willing to risk a relationship after Damien- but I want her to have happiness, so: fic.

There were a jumble of sensations that woke Hannah that morning. First there was the rolling in her stomach, a queasiness that made her grumble into her pillow even as she was still half asleep. Then there was that disappointing sensation of quickly cooling blankets beside her as she languidly stretched her arm across the bed; searching. But the last: the lingering press of lips against the curve of her shoulder as a weight settled back down beside her; that was the best one yet- that one got the job done, and Hannah cracked her eyes open to gaze up at Aaron Shore leaning over her.

“Good morning,” Aaron murmured, hot breath racing over her skin.

Hannah was about to smile in reply, but another cramping bout of nausea had other ideas. “Ugh,” she managed instead, burying her face back into the pillow. “Morning.”

There was a chuckle from above as Aaron eased himself off the bed, and she felt a faint flicker of disappointment rise above the twisting in her gut as she heard the sounds of a shirt being pulled on. “That bad, huh? I’m damn sore as well,” he said, and Hannah grinned as memories of the night before filtered through her mind. Her body ached as well, but those pains were far more of the pleasant sort. Not so with these ones in her stomach. She winced again.

Aaron’s voice had a touch of concern when he spoke again. “We don’t have to do... _that_ again, if-“

“No. Stop.” Hannah heaved herself up just in time to hold up a silencing hand. She would not have Aaron speaking blasphemy, not in this house. “We are definitely doing _that_ again. Multiple times.” She was still savouring the taste of last night on her tongue- she had only just started convincing Aaron to get experimental; she wasn’t going to give that up now. Hannah got up to snag her robe, more to hide her smirk as Aaron gulped than anything else.

“I’m just feeling a bit run down,” she explained. Reluctantly, she added: “Might be getting the flu or something.”

Aaron hummed sympathetically. “Would coffee help?”

Hannah’s grumbling stomach gave its own answer, and she moaned again, letting out a stream of curses. There was nothing she hated more than getting sick.

“...I’ll take that as a no.”

Hannah huffed, shooting him a little grin of thanks. They were well into month two of their little arrangement- Aaron coming over for sex, no strings attached- and a week ago they seemed to have evolved into sharing coffee in the mornings. Unexpected- but Aaron’s coffee making skills were nothing to turn her nose up at.

Actually, Hannah mused as she appreciated the sight of Aaron tousling his sleep-curled hair, there was nothing about this that she could turn her nose up at. Aaron Shore sneaking his way into her life was the best thing that had happened to her in...god, Hannah didn’t even know.

Aaron scooped up his wallet from the bedside table, weighing it thoughtfully in his hand as he turned to face her. There was a sudden guardedness in his stance that Hannah couldn’t help but pick up on; a rolling of the shoulders too tightly controlled to be casual. He cleared his throat.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering- tomorrow night, before coming back here, do you maybe want to go-“

A piercing shrill cut him off mid sentence, and Hannah dove across the bed to snatch up her ringing phone. The screen announced that it was Chuck calling her. At this hour, it couldn’t be anything but work. As much as she was curious about this sudden mood shift in Aaron, news from Chuck tended to be time sensitive.

“Ah, shit, sorry. I gotta take this,” she said, flashing him the screen. Aaron nodded in understanding, and as she turned away she caught the flash of a tight smile gracing his face.

“...Never mind.” There was the vague sound of feet shuffling, and then Aaron sighed out behind her: “Same time tomorrow?”

Hannah’s mind was already whirring with thoughts about the case she was currently working, and she scarcely heard what he said. “Mmhm,” she said distractedly, and picked up the call. “Hey Chuck, what have you got for me?” She listened fixedly as he rambled about a possible lead he may have found while combing a suspect’s hard-drive, frustrated disappointment knotting her already troubled stomach. As far as leads went, it was pretty threadbare, but they’d been chasing this guy for months now. At this point, Hannah would take anything.

Aaron would want to know about this. Hannah swung around to fill him in, but she stopped short when she was met with an empty bedroom. He must have already left without her hearing. She felt a suspicious lurch in her stomach as she gazed at the rumpled bedsheets, and then roundly cursed at herself. How many times had Hannah told herself that this was just casual sex between friends? But here she was, staring longingly at an empty bed like some kind of-

“Hannah?” Chuck’s voice sounded.

“I- sorry,” she said, shaking herself out of it with a scowl. “It’s probably nothing, but I’ll check it out anyway. I’ll be there in-“

There was that lurch in her gut again, but with a spike of alarm, Hannah realised that this was not a case of her catching feelings. Nearly tripping over yesterday’s jeans, she booked it out of her bedroom and into the bathroom down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of the toilet just in time to let loose a stream of vomit. She panted against porcelain, glaring sullenly at the remains of yesterday’s dinner. Nope, not love-sickness. This was _sick_ -sickness. But vomiting or not, she was chasing this lead, damnit. She’d carry a sick-bag with her if she had to.

“....Sorry,” she gasped into the phone after scooping it up from where she’d let it clatter to the floor. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Uh, did I just hear you throw up?” Chuck asked incredulously. “You don’t need to come if you’re sick, seriously.”

“I’m fine,” Hannah growled. “I’m just-“

She pressed her phone against her chest in a vain attempt to muffle the sounds of her violently throwing up again. Hannah sucked in a shuddering breath as she rode out the last sickening waves of nausea, legs suddenly feeling like concrete. Slowly, she lifted her phone to her ear.

“....I will be there......in 24 hours.”

Chuck laughed, and Hannah grunted out something that could have been a goodbye before hanging up, arm flopping uselessly to her side. Whatever this illness was, it had hit her harder than the stock of a gun to the temple. And she would know. She considered getting up to rinse out her sick-stained gums, but with a fuzzy drowsiness weighing down her limbs, sitting on the bathroom floor for the foreseeable future seemed far more tempting.

Her stomach rolled again, and she groaned. “Maybe 48 hours...”

It was odd, really. Hannah, as a general rule, didn’t get sick. And not even in a ‘power-through-the-pain’ sort of way- she just seemed to have an immune system that was as terrifying as the rest of her. But thinking back on it, she had been feeling pretty out of it the last few days. She’d been tired almost constantly, her body had been aching in weird places; hell, even her period was a couple of days late-

Hannah froze. No. No, it couldn’t be. Feeling a bubble of dread swelling in her stomach, she did the math. And then redid it. And then redid it again. But no matter how many times she retried the calculations, she kept coming back to the same terrible result: all this was coming about four weeks after that night, the one she and Aaron had sworn would never happen again, the one where they had gotten drunk and decided that unwrapping a condom was just too much effort-

Shit.

 

* * *

 

 Amy yanked her earphones out as she trounced through the door and shrugged her bag off to one arm, weighing it up distastefully. Since they'd moved to their new apartment, Hannah was on a 'responsible adult' kick, and that involved forcibly enrolling her in the American school system- which meant homework. She could feel the weight of about 3 hours of work straining the straps of her bag.

So, of course, that meant 3 hours of thinking up ways to avoid doing it.

She made to sling her bag across the room onto the couch as she usually did, but aborted at the last second when she realised that it would result in smacking Hannah in the face- Hannah, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch in a pyjama top and sweatpants, looking like death.

"You're home early," Amy said, dropping her bag to the floor instead. "Actually, did you even go into work today? You look rough.”

Hannah gazed intently at the dark TV screen, looking like her mind was working a mile a minute. She didn't even glance up.

“....Hannah?" Amy crossed over to stand in front of her, waving a hand in her face. "You good? Hannah?”

“Hmm? What?" Hannah's eyes finally jerked up to meet hers, but there was still some part of her clearly not there. "Oh, hey. How was school? Good? Great."

“...Well, this isn’t weird at all,” Amy said, flopping into the armchair beside the couch. "Alright, spill. What is up with you?”

Hannah blinked sluggishly a few times. “Okay," she began, and then sighed. "You remember how I’ve been sleeping with Aaron recently?”

Amy stared. “Uh, yeah. Kind of hard to forget. He comes over, like, every second night, and your room is just across the hall from mine. You seriously owe me money for either earplugs or therapy, because _jesus christ_." She scowled as she remembered the night before- with the sounds coming from the bedroom, she'd been debating calling an ambulance, before finally deciding that if they fucked themselves to death, then that was on them. And even that hadn't been the most disturbing experience in the Wells-Shore Shagging Saga. “I’ve also seen him shirtless no less than five times. Super awkward, by the way, so thanks."

Hannah had gone back to staring glassily, so Amy pulled herself back from going on a rant about Aaron's weird, smooth body strutting around their apartment. “So, okay, what about it?”

There was no response. Instead, Hannah wordlessly dug into a plastic shopping bag sitting beside her. She pulled out a box, gripping it in white knuckled hands. Amy strained her eyes to read the front.

_Clearblue Rapid Detection: Pregnancy Tests_

She let out a low whistle. “....Oh. Oh _damn_.”

“Oh damn," Hannah agreed hollowly. "I’ve thrown up three times today already, I’m exhausted, and I’ve realised I’m a couple of days late.”

"Shit," Amy said. Then her eyes narrowed. "Weren’t you guys using protection?"

Hannah seethed. "Yes! Of course. Well, mostly, I mean-"

Amy raised an eyebrow. Hannah's lip curled. "Okay, there was one night where we were a bit too distracted. But it was only one time."

"Oh my god," Amy said, throwing her hands in the air helplessly. "Okay, seriously, is there something about Aaron I'm missing here? Sure, he's got...muscles, I guess, and an objectively impressive jawline, but I don't see how that justifies this kind of dumbassery? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Hey, no," Hannah snapped, glaring daggers at her as if she thought that move worked on Amy anymore. "You do not get to lecture me. That is not how this relationship works."

"Oh sure, act like you're the responsible one here. I'm not the one who got knocked up."

Hannah slammed the box of tests on the coffee table, burying her face in her hands as she let out a strangled scream, doing a pretty spot-on impression of what Amy imagined a banshee getting tasered would sound like. She considered her options- escaping before Hannah's angst-fuelled rage caused her to throw Amy out the window being a pretty damn tempting one- but Amy had to admit, she wanted to see how this drama unfolded. So, instead, she sat primly on the edge of her seat and waited patiently until Hannah dragged her hands down to skewer her with a glower, as if this was all her fault somehow.

"This is a sick fucking joke," she said flatly, still mumbling against tightly clenched fists. “I don't need my life to be more complicated at the moment, so of course that means my fuck-buddy, who is also my goddamn boss by the way, has very possibly implanted an alien inside me! What do you even do with babies? _Why are their bodies so small and breakable_?”

By the end of her tirade, Hannah’s voice had reached a tight coil of panic, and Amy winced at the pitch. Okay, this was getting way out of hand. Hannah Wells did not panic. It just wasn’t how the world worked. On that note, Amy was slightly concerned that she’d slipped into an alternate universe, but that wasn’t the most pressing issue at the moment. Right now, she had a near breakdown on her hands.

“Mmkay, maybe stop acting like a freak for one second,” she said in the best approximation of a soothing voice she could muster. “You don’t even know if you’re actually pregnant yet. Go and take a test, and then we can go from there.”

Hannah sucked in a deep breath and firmly nodded her head. She didn’t move. Amy gave her ten seconds before letting out a pointed sigh.

“...Yeah, okay, so this is the part where you take a test out of the box, go to the bathroom and, y’know, use it.”

She waited. Still nothing.

”Hannah,” she said with a huff. She considered the merits of slapping Hannah across the face to shake her out of this funk. She would definitely die, but the look she would get would almost make it worth it. _Almost_. She contented herself with a hard shake on the shoulder. “Are you having a stroke?”

Finally, Hannah moved, shaking off Amy’s hand with a scowl. “Look, I’m-“ she snapped, and then drew back, letting the rest of her sentence slither out through furiously clenched teeth. “...I’m scared, okay?”

Amy blinked. She blinked again. Had she heard that right? “You’re scared?” she asked incredulously. “Dude, I saw you fight off a literal assassin by yourself, and you’re scared of a pregnancy test?”

“Yes!” Hannah exclaimed, and her rigid shoulders deflated into something suspiciously vulnerable looking as she dropped her gaze back to the pregnancy tests. Amy’s eyes softened. “This is a big deal,” Hannah said lowly. “If I am pregnant, no matter whether I keep it or not...” she blew out a long breath. “It’s going to complicate things with Aaron- and with me, ‘complicate’ always means ‘royally screw up.’ I care about Aaron. I care about him more than I’ve cared about anyone since...” She looked Amy dead in the eye, and Amy swallowed, nodding.

She clenched her jaw, as if she was working up the nerve to admit something she would much rather not. “I don’t want to lose what I have with him. I...I want more than what I have with him. But, of course, this is going to go and ruin everything.”

Oh Christ, this got real way too quickly. Amy wanted to backpedal right the hell out of this, because Hannah with actual, soft, human emotions was possibly the scariest thing she’d ever seen. But also....Hannah had been there for her so many times this last year. If Amy hadn’t had her, she’d be even more of a mess than she already was, and that was saying something. She couldn’t just leave her like this.

Amy leaned forward, letting her knees gently brush against Hannah’s as she started to speak. “If there’s one thing I know about Aaron- other than the fact that he manscapes too much and that he wears really nice cologne- it’s that he’s a solid guy. More than that, he’s crazy about you.”

Hannah glanced up slightly at that, a slight twitch to her eyebrow. Amy grinned. “I mean, in, like, a kind of sad, pathetic, puppy dog way,” she continued, “but still. Whatever happens...I think he’ll stick by you. And even if he doesn’t....” she sighed. “You...still have me, I guess.”

Ugh.

Amy opened up the box and pulled out a pregnancy test, placing it firmly in Hannah’s dangling hand. “Now,” she said tenderly. “Stop being a little bitch, and go pee on this stick.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she stood and disappeared into the bathroom. Amy lounged back into her chair, poking absently at her phone, but really unable to take her mind off what was happening in the bathroom, and what it would all mean. Man, Hannah with a baby. Yeah, that was just...too weird to picture. The suspense gnawed away at her for eight whole minutes before Hannah re-emerged silently from the bathroom.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Amy asked, peeking up from where she was curled in the seat. She watched as Hannah said nothing, watched as Hannah made a beeline for the kitchen, watched as Hannah uncapped a bottle of vodka from the fridge and took a long, lasting gulp.

“Oh, well, yeah, that’s-“

Hannah held up a hand, the other still occupied with the neck of the bottle. She took another drag, and another-

“-Okay,” Amy finished lamely, quirking an eyebrow as Hannah finally slammed down the bottle with a gasp. “Not pregnant then. I _hope_.”

Hannah’s face was tipped back in a gaping grin. “Not pregnant. Thank fuck.” She gave the bottle of vodka a hard stare, and glanced down at her stomach with a frown of consternation. “So I am actually sick then.” She sighed lengthily: “Oh, I’m definitely going to regret that later.”

_No shit_ , Amy snorted internally. Outwardly, she merely rolled her eyes. “Congrats anyway,” she said dryly. Then she drummed the armrest thoughtfully, looking Hannah up and down, smirk coming in full force. “So, when are you going to talk to Aaron?”

Hannah froze. “What?”

“When are you going to tell him all that stuff you told me? About actually wanting this relationship to work out and everything?”

Hannah, once again, was the picture of tension. “Ah, I’m thinking never.”

A groan burst out from Amy as she deflated against her chair, throwing her head back. Why did she even bother? Truly? “Oh my god. Why are you still being so weird about this? You’re not pregnant- you’re in the clear!”

Hannah was shaking her head furiously as she collapsed onto the couch again. “Look, I was upset when I said all those things. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Obviously the flu is muddling my thought processes.”

‘Bullshit,’ Amy mouthed. Hannah promptly ignored her.

“It’s better if Aaron and I just stay casual,” she said decisively. To anyone else, she might have even been convincing. Amy wasn’t anyone. She was a better bullshit-detector than just about everyone, especially when it came to Hannah. But she also knew that trying to cajole Hannah into doing something that she clearly didn’t want to do was not going to end happily for anyone, least of all her. No, if Amy was going to save Hannah from herself, then she’d have to find another way. So for now, that just left mocking her mercilessly.

“No, don’t say that!” she said. “I ship you guys so hard! You two are my everything!”

Hannah stared flatly. “You know I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Amy just laughed. She sprung up from her seat, heading into the kitchen. “I’m making dinner,” she tossed back over her shoulder. “I don’t want your gross, sick hands all over our food.”

Hannah still looked perfectly miserable lying there on the couch, staring off into some middle distance and probably fantasising about Aaron scooping her into his arms, or sweeping her into a kiss, or...ugh, whatever it was they were doing last night. As horrifying as that thought was, Hannah still looked so damn pathetic. So doing two nice things for Hannah in a row when she was like this wouldn’t kill her, Amy decided.

She watched from over the kitchen counter as Hannah stared furtively at her phone, her previous messages to Aaron lighting up the screen. Okay, this was getting sadder by the minute. As weirdly hilarious as it was though, Amy felt another tug of sympathy snag at her heart. As much as she joked, Amy really was rooting for those two. It was nice to see that Hannah was capable of genuine happiness. And if that happened to be because of Aaron Shore, well...Amy could keep her complaints to a minimum.

Something needed to be done about this.

 

* * *

 

 Aaron couldn’t rationalise why he felt as nervous as he did then as he stood in front of Hannah’s door. Maybe it was the way she had cut him off yesterday, or the way he had left after, but he had an awful wariness in his gut that was telling him that if he knocked now, Hannah was going to turn him away. It didn’t make sense- this was a casual arrangement, no feelings involved, so why would a little awkwardness a day ago matter?

Maybe that was why he felt uneasy: the idea that he could be left bothered by that, but Hannah wouldn’t be. Because Hannah was pragmatic, Hannah was realistic; Hannah knew what this relationship was. And Aaron...Aaron was a goddamn fool, who let things get out of hand as he found himself falling head over heels for a woman he could never have.

Aaron shook his head at himself. Alright, he might be a fool, but he wasn’t a coward. He took one last bracing breath, steadied himself, and knocked on the door. It started opening immediately. Aaron straightened in surprise, mood instantly buoyed- had Hannah been waiting for him? He could already feel his face softening into a conservative grin, the one she always seemed to be able to coax out of him-

The door swung open, and Amy stood in the doorway. Aaron resisted the urge to take a step back.

“Ah,” he said slowly, grin tightening. “Hi Amy.”

“Hi Aaron,” Amy replied, tone dripping with mockingly mirrored disappointment. He winced internally- was that really how he’d sounded? It wasn’t as if he disliked Amy, exactly. He actually though she was an incredibly bright, earnest kid underneath all those layers of teenage sass and behavioural issues. But when it came to interacting with her...Well, the nuances of navigating the relationship between himself and that of his friend-with-benefits’ quasi-adopted child weren’t ones he had completely figured out yet.

Aaron shifted awkwardly as he stepped past her into the living room and realised that they were completely alone. This was the exact opposite of an ideal situation. “Hannah not here?” he asked, with a vague shred of hope that Hannah would suddenly emerge from the bedroom and rescue him from being stuck with Amy. “I heard she’s sick, wasn’t sure I should come.”

That was another reason why Aaron felt unsure about knocking on the door- Chuck had told him that Hannah had been throwing up. Incidentally, it was also the reason why there was nothing in the world that could have stopped him from coming to see her.

“She’ll be back in a sec,” Amy said with a shrug. She had her shoulders slouched, one impertinent eyebrow raised, with a single earphone emerging from behind her long hair; the picture of adolescent cockiness. It was a look Aaron had seen countless times before in his little brothers and sisters, but on Amy it was a whole different beast. Trust Damien Rennett to have a kid like none Aaron had dealt with before.

Although, Aaron realised with faint surprise, he had stopped thinking of Amy as Damien’s daughter a long time ago. When he looked at her now, all he saw was Hannah.

“Hey, so, I’m trying to decide whether I should listen to Fall Out Boy or As It Is tonight,” Amy said. “Which do you think will drown out the sounds of lovemaking better?”

Alright, he took it back. That right there was Damien all over. He stared flatly at her. “...You should be doing homework.”

“And you should wear condoms, but I guess we’re both letting ourselves down aren’t we?”

Aaron stiffened with a splutter, hearing her words like a cold splash of water as a guilt soaked memory trickled through his mind. They had both sworn that would never happen again, that it was too risky, and- most importantly- that they wouldn’t talk about it. Had Hannah seriously told Amy? Of all people? “I...don’t know what you’re-“ he protested in one last ditch effort to maintain his dignity, but his words faded to dead silence as his eyes slid past Amy to the coffee table behind her. He had drifted past it before, gaze not picking up on anything worth looking at, but now he could see, with horrifying clarity, the box of pregnancy tests.

He stared dumbly. “Oh god.”

“Oh _god_.”

Aaron raised his head like there was a weight around his neck, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet with Hannah’s dinner-plate eyes. She was standing in the doorway, keys in one hand and pharmacy bag in the other, and she was looking entirely like she was a second from running away and dropping off the grid again. Honestly, Aaron couldn’t blame her. This was how he was going to die, he thought faintly: a heart attack on the floor of his fuck-buddy’s apartment. He wondered how many laughs Seth would be able to milk from that in the eulogy.

Well, probably not many. It was _Seth_ , after all.

A sigh of impatience shattered Hannah’s horrified expression, and a look of blood curdling fury unfurled there instead- like the dark clouds heralding a tornado- as she turned to face Amy.

“Okay, you’re done,” Hannah said tightly. “Go to your room and pack a bag, you’re on the next flight back to London.”

Amy seemed unperturbed, rolling her eyes and not moving an inch. “I’m doing you a favour,” she said, almost condescendingly, and Aaron winced internally as he saw Hannah’s nostrils flair.

“Does ‘favour’ have a different meaning in Britain?” Hannah hissed, a truly dangerous undercurrent in her voice that Aaron suspected even Mike would step back from.

But not Amy, apparently. “I saw you begin to type out messages to Aaron 15 times last night,” she said exasperatedly, and Aaron couldn’t resist sneaking a glance back at Hannah. “You clearly want to talk to him. You just needed a push, because you’re....” she shrugged. “An emotionally constipated dumbass.”

Hannah started forward, and Amy seemed to find it within herself to be a little panicked after all, mouth creasing with alarm and maybe a little contrition. Aaron didn’t bother to step in though; partially because he knew that Hannah, even frothing at the mouth like she was, could never hurt Amy, but mostly because his eyes had settled back on the box on the table, and now he couldn’t tear them away.

“Hannah,” Aaron said, and then stopped. It was all he could say- and what had happened to his iron calm, the one that had weathered him through the Capitol bombing and the President’s near assassination and their other assorted weekly disasters? Though, in fairness, even the Capitol bombing paled in comparison to this in terms of sheer, brain-melting panic.

It was all he could say, but it was enough. Hannah stopped, sighed, raised a vicious finger to Amy’s paling face.

“You, go,” she growled. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Amy couldn’t scramble away fast enough. But as she left, she shot Aaron an unexpectedly genuine smile. He couldn’t return it though, not now that Hannah had stepped in front of him, arms crossed and caught in a freeze-frame of muted panic. She was all he could focus on.

Aaron licked his desert-dry lips. “You’re pregnant?” he asked softly. His mind was already fifteen steps ahead, working out logistics. He couldn’t help but assume that Hannah wouldn’t want to keep it, what with her job and...well, everything about her life. But he also couldn’t help but contemplate the other possibility: that of him moving in here- yeah, that would work, this place was bigger- and maybe shuffling some things around at work to make things easier, and suggesting to Hannah that he’d always wanted to name a daughter after his mother....

“No,” Hannah said, looking deeply happy about it, and Aaron almost sagged.

Oh thank god. Thank god, thank god, thank god. He furiously took back all those traitorous thoughts, those half formed longings, sweeping them back into the locked chest of his mind. He had always vaguely loved the idea of having children. But not like this. Not in the form of a heart attack.

“I thought I might be,” Hannah continued. “But it turns out I really do just have the flu. And a badly timed period.”

Aaron...did not know what to say to that. He was still slightly concerned about heart failure, and he just kept nodding robotically as he processed the news. “Wow,” he finally said. “You...must be relieved.”

“Yeah, I am.” There wasn’t even a second’s hesitation, just that pragmatism ringing like steel in her voice, and Aaron felt his dumbfounded smile wilt a fraction. He felt the cold, hard hand of reality slap him across the face. Of course she was relieved. Her wanting a pregnancy would have meant her wanting...them. And that wasn’t what this arrangement was. This was just some fun between friends. He just had to pack up all his sentimentality and move on, like always.

Aaron knew that. Aaron was fine with that. Aaron absolutely wasn’t lying about being fine with that.

Hannah must have picked up on his subtle mood shift- she always did- and she shook her head, sweeping her hair out of her face. “Oh fuck, okay.” She sighed, long and low. “Aaron, I...I didn’t want to talk to you about this because it’s the kind of thing that leads to serious discussions. About relationships.”

Aaron shrugged as casually as he could. “Look, Hannah, it’s fine, I know you don’t-“

“Relationships are difficult for me,” she continued on stubbornly, and Aaron fell silent. “After Scott, and then Damien...I refuse to let anyone in, because I can’t let myself get hurt again. But you managed to do it anyway.”

Hannah paused, frowned, as if she was peering over the edge of a steep cliff and deciding whether or not to jump. Aaron was suddenly very conscious that he was holding his breath.

“I care about you, Aaron. A lot.” Hannah was closer now, and Aaron felt his skin prickling as her fingers roamed from where they were brushing the back of his hand, spidering up until they rested, light but confident, on his bicep. “This made me realise that more than ever. And I think...if you’re willing...I would like to take this beyond the bedroom.”

Aaron breathed, not blinking even once. He’d processed what she’d said, logically, but his heart was lagging a second behind. He was hungry for the perfect silence of the moment, savouring each second so he could convince himself that it was all real, but then a part of his brain pointedly reminded him that this was usually the point where a reply was expected.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he said, and he could already feel Hannah’s lips forming a smile as he pulled her in for a kiss. It felt so much like their first kiss, the one they’d shared after Hannah had come back from a dangerous mission, one they hadn’t been sure she would get out of. It had been her greeting, before either of them could even get a word out. This had that same urgency, that firm resolution, that promise of more to come.

This was a greeting.

“Oh, uh-“ Hannah pulled away, laughing awkwardly. “I actually am sick. So kissing me probably isn’t the best idea.”

Aaron grinned, pulled her right back in so his lips were brushing her cheek. “After what we did last night, I’m pretty sure all of your bacteria is inside me already.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s super sexy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They both chuckled then, Hannah’s breath heating his neck. “I still definitely don’t want kids, though,” she said, patting his chest playfully. “So you’re buying extra-strength condoms, pronto.”

“I’m on it.” Aaron gave her another lingering kiss and then propped his chin atop the crown of her head, letting himself be warmed by the arms sneaking around his waist. It was the perfect vantage point to see the whip of long dark hair as a teenage-girl shaped shadow attempted to duck out of sight behind the doorway. “Hey, uh, speaking of kids?” he murmured, “I’m pretty sure Amy has been listening in on this entire conversation.”

Hannah snorted. “Yeah, I know.” Without even bothering to turn her head, she yelled out: “Amy, get out of here or I’m using your phone for target practice.”

They both waited, listening to the not-so-subtle creaking of footsteps hurrying down the hall.

Hannah shook her head peevishly. “She has boundary issues,” she said. “And self-control issues. And attitude issues. And-“

“She has issues,” Aaron cut in. “Got it.” He smiled as he thought back on his own childhood. His brothers and sisters had been little hellions from day one, and they’d only gotten worse with age. Aaron had been one of the only people they would listen to- he knew how to speak their language. “Kids are hard, especially at this age. She probably just needs guidance, a positive influence. But someone who still lets her have her freedom.”

Hannah drummed her fingers thoughtfully against his chest: “I’ve been trying to be stricter since we moved here. I don’t think it’s working. Maybe, I should try a more balanced approach?”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Yeah- wait.” Hannah jerked away from him, mouth stretching open in mounting horror. “Wait,” she said again slowly. “Are we...parenting right now?”

Aaron’s jaw slackened to match hers, and his head snapped up as he heard a peal of laughter from down the hallway. Amy’s voice, loud and irritatingly smug as it bounced off the walls that she was undoubtedly listening through: “I’m really proud of you guys!”

It only took a second for Aaron to dissolve into helpless chuckling himself, buried in Hannah’s hair. Amy or no, out of all the possibilities he’d been faced with, this ending to today couldn’t be beaten. So what could he do but laugh? After all- he was happy.


End file.
